


tomorrow, today (forever, and then some more.)

by wenmemehui



Category: GOT7, JJ Project, K-pop
Genre: Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Gen, I have No Excuse, M/M, Moving Out, THIS IS JUST GAY, aesthetic af, basically jaebum is a dopey bastard and jinyoung is in love, but not really, but when arent they lol, change, jjp are in love with each other but whats new, k bye, um lets see, vaguely a verse 2 au, verse 2 is two platonic bros going out to find themselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wenmemehui/pseuds/wenmemehui
Summary: “Hey, hyung,” Jinyoung says, just when the sun slips past the horizon and disappears into the canopy of trees behind them and the shadow falls on them, “kiss me like you won’t see me tomorrow.”...Or: Jaebum, Jinyoung, and Love.





	tomorrow, today (forever, and then some more.)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crazyforjjp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyforjjp/gifts).



(It rained the day Jaebum kissed Jinyoung for the first time. He waited by the roadside, seventeen years old and angry at the whole world, and Jinyoung had come sprinting from the other side of the road, smiling with his teeth and his unfairly pretty lips and that godforsaken dimple. Something in him had softened for his friend over time. Jinyoung ran up to him, breathless and laughing, and he pressed his hands to Jaebum’s shoulders to steady himself.

“Hyung, I’m sorry I’m late,” seventeen year old Park Jinyoung went red really easily.

He was so close that Jaebum could individually count every star in his speckled eyes. Jinyoung reminded him of gradual things, like grass on the lawn and the moss on stones, of gentle rain and grey skies. It almost made his heart ache and his stomach clutter and fall apart. Jinyoung smiled at him, like the center of the ocean on a calm day.

So he kissed him.

And Park Jinyoung, seventeen years old and more beautiful than the star-speckled galaxy and the night sky, had kissed him back.)

…….

At the peak of dawn, when the sky above them melts into stark blues and subtle reds and soft oranges, they move away from the place where they met and fell in love.

It is, as many of their decisions are, unplanned, spontaneous and fueled with nerves and adrenaline. They leave Jaebum’s phone at his house and take Jinyoung’s instead, one that’s got all the good songs in it. Twin duffle bags sit limply between them, one blue and one red, both stuffed to the brim with clothes and other things they’d thought to bring along with them. The books (Jinyoung’s idea – he wanted to have something consistent in case he really started feeling lonely,) and the puzzle (Jaebum – he was afraid of having nothing to busy his hands with,) are placed neatly next to the bags.

Hesitation flickers across Jinyoung’s eyes, stark darkness against his otherwise bright pupils before he closes them and his grip around the steering wheel tightens, as though he was teaching himself how to breathe again. His lashes curl on his cheek and his lips part.

(Breathe in.)

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum says, “let’s get the hell out of here.”

(Breathe out.)

Jinyoung drives off without opening his eyes.

…….

Hokkaido is a beautiful place, one that lives and breathes cosmic explosions of stars and seems to move on its own. The ground is its rough palms and the trees are its fingertips, calloused and gentle from years of nurturing. The dips of the valley is its lips, and the slope of its mountain are its scars. Hokkaido burns, bright and searing and then gentle and loving, and it’s easy to fall in love with the place as though it were the center of his own heart.

“I lived there my whole life,” Jinyoung says, eyes locked on the grey road in front of them as they drive out of the city, and his knuckles turn white when he grips the steering wheel, “I hope I won’t miss it too much.”

Jinyoung is a man of his habits. He had a routine when they stayed in the city. He’d wake up, read approximately four pages of a book he’d been reading the night before, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast with his parents at the oak dining table and he’ll stare blankly when they ask questions and leave home as soon as he was done. Then he’d come to Jaebum’s apartment, three streets away from his picket-fence house, and kiss him outside the door and allow himself to be dragged in. He’d leave maybe three hours later, have lunch with his family, and then come back again.

In the eight years Im Jaebum had known Park Jinyoung, the routine never changed.

“Me too,” Jaebum confesses. His old place had a violin, and his fingers are itching to hold a bow again and play his favorite pieces all over again. He’d always stood outside a large window giving a view of the hillsides and he’d played and played until Jinyoung pressed a kiss to the juncture of his shoulder and his neck and told him to stop. Some days, Jinyoung would sit behind him with his book and he’d read while Jaebum played. It was what they did for eight years, “breaking habits is going to be difficult.”

Jinyoung makes a sharp turn and smiles at him, boyish and youthful.

“Let’s just make new ones, then,” he says, and the beginning of spring reflects in his eyes.

.......

They stop at the roadside when the sun comes close to setting.

Instead of walking around, they crawl into the backseat, Jinyoung with his back pressed to Jaebum’s chest and Jaebum’s arms locked around his waist. They hum quietly to nostalgic pieces of music they only vaguely recall now and Jinyoung’s hair feels like cotton when it brushes past his neck. It’s warm. It’s content.

“Hey, hyung,” Jinyoung says, just when the sun slips past the horizon and disappears into the canopy of trees behind them and the shadow falls on them, “kiss me like you won’t see me tomorrow.”

Jaebum blinks. The road seems to shift, somehow, as though everything had been moved an inch and the balance of the world had been shifted. Jinyoung doesn’t seem to think he’s said anything out of the ordinary. _Kiss me like you won’t see me tomorrow. Like you won’t see me tomorrow. Kiss me like you won’t see me tomorrow._ Jinyoung never said things like that – he always said, _kiss me, hyung, kiss me until I forget who I am without you, kiss me, hyung, make me yours_.

“Why would I do that?” Jaebum asks, and he tries not to, but his hands clench around Jinyoung’s a little tighter. “We’ll see each other tomorrow, right?”

Jinyoung laughs, ethereal and shining, and the remainder of Hokkaido dims in comparison to his smile when he turns around to look at him. “Yeah,” he says, “you’ll see me tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that, but hyung, just do it. I just want to know, is all.”

Jaebum turns his head to side. From the way he’s sitting now, he can see that Jinyoung has a mole on the side of his cheek. “Know what?”

“If you love me,” Jinyoung says, eyes not betraying whatever is in his head.

 _If you’ll love me when today is over_ , he almost hears him.

“Jinyoung-ah,” he says, and slides his hands until they’re curling around Jinyoung’s jaw and his palm is resting against his cheek, and Jinyoung’s hands come up to touch his wrist, painstakingly quiet and comfortable, and he looked up at Jaebum with so much fondness and affection etched in his eyes that he physically ached, “baby, it’ll always be you. I’ll love you tomorrow, I’ll love you the day after and the day after and the day after and the day after.”

It’s almost dark.

“I love you today too,” he adds, and kisses Jinyoung like the wind brushing past the trees above him, and Jinyoung, twenty three years and still more beautiful than the star-speckled galaxy and the night sky, kisses him back.

…….

(“Remember this when you’re falling out of love with me,” Jaebum says, three days later. They’re walking along a roadside, the sun harsh and merciless, and Jinyoung keeps their palms pressed together.

“That day will never come,” Jinyoung promises, and Jaebum falls in love with him all over again, as though he’s seventeen years old and making decisions with his eyes closed.)

**Author's Note:**

> this one is for all the fluff ppl


End file.
